


The Flower that Blooms In Adversity

by Nightingale_Rising



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo, M/M, Mulan AU, Smaug is Mushu, in witch I reject all concepts of timelines and geography and substitute my own
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingale_Rising/pseuds/Nightingale_Rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve heard a great deal about you Bilbo Baggins. You stole your mother’s sword, ran away from home, impersonated a dwarf, endangered the lives of thousands of men, and-<br/>soon the world will know the great things you have done.”<br/>(General Edits done 6/3/2016)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

> What do you get when you care less about the timelines then the movie, make Erebor never fall and plop the Shire at the foot of it? A Mulan AU apparently.  
> This is of course inspired by [tumblr user filiandkiliheirsofdurin ](http://filiandkiliheirsofdurin.tumblr.com/) and all of the fun Mulan AU ideas.  
> Thank god for my friend [ Jamie ](http://irlmagicalgirl.tumblr.com/) for all the held in editing

 

“The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.”

― Walt Disney Company, Mulan

 

 Today was the day.

 Today he would be meeting with the Matchmaker.

 If you were to ask Bilbo, he would smile and say just how excited he was for it. Which was a massive lie, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice in the matter - not if he had any hopes of keeping what little reputation he had left in the town. Sometimes he thought himself quite lucky that they hadn’t chased him out of the Shire yet. His crimes? Terrible; horrendous - so bad that when people spoke of them, it was in soft whispers, as if the words themselves where cursed. Bilbo Baggins liked…books. Books! Not practical ones on tending your garden or cooking.  He liked ones about _adventures._ Those nasty, dirty things that made you late for dinner. But that wasn’t it, oh no, there was more. He hadn’t even started a courtship. More than a decade past his coming of age and he appeared content to stay home with his parents, reading books and looking over maps. _Dreaming of traveling._ He still acted like a young faun, gallivanting around talking, about elves and adventures.

 It became a blessed break in the gossip when it was heard that he had finally arranged an appointment with the Matchmaker. 'That’s what he needs,' people would say, 'someone to settle him down and get his head out of the clouds.' No one cared that Bilbo quite liked his head just where it was. So that morning in the market when anyone came up and wished him luck he would put on his best fake smile and hope he sounded excited - which was quite a feat when you were talking about Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Ah yes, we can’t forget that the Matchmaker also happened to be his cousin. One with a rather nasty habit of making off with his spoons whenever she visited.

Now it is important to remember that Lobelia was not terrible per-say. She had some good qualities Bilbo had always admired. She was passionate, protective of her family, and if you trapped her in a corner she could be quite brave. Now one had quite forgotten that one night during the Fell Winter she beat a wolf off her front step with an umbrella. That being said, she also happened to be loud, rude, and bestowed with an ego so large it was a small wonder she could fit in her front door. Good at her job or not, Bilbo never fancied the idea of being forced over to her house just to find love. He could find it on his own, thank you very much. She had some good qualities but the bad ones often shined far brighter.

“ Bilbo, don’t you ever brush your hair?”

Like right now.

“Lobelia…”

 “Don’t use that tone with me young man. You’re not a faunt anymore, you know how to use a brush.” She waved him off, pouring him a cup of tea (a blend she knew he hated.) “What took you so long to come and visit me?”

 “It’s finally come to my attention I’ll never be as good at finding someone for myself as you are.” Bilbo said dryly. Yavanna, let this be over soon. He could only kiss so much ass per-day and he was already dangerously close to his quota.

 “Well, I’m glad you’re finally catching on.” She smiled at him. “Now if only we could get those ideas of silly adventures out of your head. Look at what it got your mother.” That was the closest Lobelia came to having a good point. His mother had come back from her adventures with a bad limp, a wound that never properly healed. Not to mention Lobelia likely agreed with the old rumor that the only reason Belladonna only had one child was because of how badly injured she had gotten on her travels with dwarfs.

 The rest of the tea progressed much the same. Lobelia would say things and Bilbo would pretend to not find them offensive. “ _All genders? Bilbo please you’re not a faunt anymore settle down with one.” “Knitting is for lasses, Bilbo, don’t be silly.”_  Bilbo couldn’t say what it was that made him fly off the handle. He just remembered jumping to his feet and snapping back at his cousin with enough fire to give Belladonna’s temper a run for its money.

 Hell, he couldn’t even remember what he was yelling about, he was just shouting. He could, however, remember how Lobelia backpedaled back to the hearth. And her face when her skirts burst into flames.

Bilbo did not think it was possible for anything to reach the pitch that Lobelia did as she ran from the house. Being the quick thinking Hobbit he was Bilbo grabbed the tea pot dashing after his flaming cousin. She had only made it to the front stoop when he had the chance to upend the pot of lukewarm tea over her.

Bilbo quickly pressed the tea pot into Lobelia’s hands, hoping to get as far away as he could before she came to her senses. The gathered crowed partnered and he half sprinted through them, Oh Yavanna no one would shut up about this for months.

“You are a disgrace!” Lobelia’s screech rang out before he had quite made it away. He turned just in time to duck the tea pot launched at his head. “There isn’t a hobbit in all of Arda that I could pair you with Bilbo Baggins. You may look like a respectable gentle hobbit but you have no place among us!”

Knowing Lobelia she had more to say, but Bilbo didn’t stay around long enough to hear it. He didn’t care how childish It was, he turned and he ran. He didn’t stop when his mother called after him; in fact he didn’t stop for quite some time. He just ran with no destination in mind, only to get away from it all.  Somehow he made it to the river collapsing in the soft soil of the banks. He didn’t cry. He had one tiny scrap of pride left in him and he was not about to let it be destroyed by being found in the mud crying.

He didn’t know how long he sat there in the mud. Breathing harshly through his nose, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He must be a sight now, not even looking like a respectable hobbit anymore. Taking another few deep steadying breaths, he finally pushed himself to his feet. He was going to have to face his family sometime.

He didn’t speak to anyone on the walk home, though a few hobbits called after him as he walked by. He knew he would be faced with mockery or pity, and he was not emotional ready for either at the moment. He just wanted to be home, safe in his own bed away from world, and to do that he would have to face his parents first.

He found his mother first. Kneeling in the garden in front of their home tending to the roses. Belladonna didn’t say anything with Bilbo sat down next to him. “I’m sorry.” He said in lieu of a greeting.

“I'm doing very well thank you for asking.” Bella replied. “What are you sorry for?”

“I set Lobelia on fire.”

His mother snorted. “So I head, I also heard she had it coming.”

“She wasn’t wrong.” Bilbo said more to himself then to his mother.

“Bilbo, do you remember when I bought these roses?” Bella asked as she pruned back the rose bush.

Bilbo frowned at the change of subject, but was glad for any reason to not talk about the spectacle he had made of the family. “Yeah?” It was a gift his parents wedding anniversary a black rose bush.

“Caused quite a stir.” Bella said. “Death. Quite a strange meaning to give on a wedding anniversy. Lobelia said your father might as well given me Larkspur. “

“I’m not really sure what you’re trying to say.”

“Red would be the proper color to give on anniversary. Something respectable. Should I paint all these flowers red? Just so I can fit everyone else’s ideas of respectable?” Bella didn’t give Bilbo time to answer as she cut a rose tucking it into Bilbo’s hair. “I love these roses, even if no one in the Shire thinks they’re proper. And I love you no matter what the Shire thinks. If you settle down or not. If you stay here in Bag End for ever or if you go off fighting Orcs next week. Actually I think the whole Shire is expecting it with what I did when I was your age.”

Bilbo snorted. He never quite understood how she made him laugh no matter how bad she felt. “I think I’ll pass on the Orcs and the wild adventure. Maybe just a nice walking holiday to Bree.”

“You never know dear. There is a lot more to you then most hobbits want to see, including yourself.” Bella said hugging him close.

In the coming months Bilbo would look back on this conversation. Every time he was ready to run back home from his own Yavanna-forsaken adventure and just go back home to his books and his chair, he would remember his mother and how much he wanted to see the same things in herself that she saw in him.

               

               

 

               

                 

               

               


	2. A Butterfly Beats His Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo makes a decision that will change a lot more then his own life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry this took so long. A lot as has been going on in my personal life and writing in general took a massive back burner. It has calmed down a lot so hopefully the next chapter wont be so long.  
> One again betaed by the amazing the wonderful [here](http://www.irlmagicalgirl.tumblr.com>Jay</a>%0AIf%20you%20want%20to%20be%20more%20up%20to%20date%20on%20the%20process%20of%20this%20fic%20you%20can%20check%20out%20this%20cool%20tag%20I%20have%20for%20it%20<a%20href=)

“<How does the butterfly know when to beat its wings?>

‘It doesn't,’ I said. ‘I guess it beats its wings the best it can, and hopes it will all work out. It's a butterfly. It just does what butterflies do.’ “

-K. A. Applegate, _The Stranger_

 

There’s this old saying, about how a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a tornado on the other side of Arda. If you are the kind of person who believes that sort of thing, then you would be the same kind of person who believed Gandalf the Grey had the ability to spot the butterflies that could make the biggest storms.

 From Bandobras Took, who had slain a goblin king and invented the game of golf in one swift swing of his club, to Belladonna Baggins née Took, Gandalf always managed to find the most inconspicuous person would do so much more for Arda than anyone would ever predict. Belladonna’s tale was perhaps the greatest so far; a young hobbit lass hired as a burglar to help reclaim the Mines of Moria. Well over a century ago, the mountain had been overtaken by a cold drake of the north. He had not been seen for over sixty years the day Gandalf first darkened the Bag End’s stoop. The next day, Bella was seen rushing out of the Shire shouting about how she was going on an adventure.  It was a year before anyone had seen hide or tail of Bella, returning with a bad limp and quite a few tales to tell.

So, when Bilbo was enjoying a calm smoke on the front porch and he saw the tall figure making his way up Bagshot row, he knew something had to be up. It was months until Old Took’s birthday, of which Gandalf and his fireworks where never absent from. Gandalf could only be here because he was up to something. Bilbo blew a large smoke ring, enjoying one more small moment of peace before calling out a cheery, “Good Morning, Gandalf!” Up to something or not, Bilbo would hold on to the tattered remains of his reputation and be polite to the old man.

“What do you mean?” Gandalf asked. “Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning, whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel it is good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”

It was nice to see Gandalf had not changed at all since he had last seen him. “All of them at once I suppose.” Bilbo laughed. “And a fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine.” There was no point in trying to rush the wizard into anything. Gandalf moved at his own pace with little care for what others needed to get to, but, with a little Old Toby or a nice bottle of wine he became slightly more amicable.

It wasn’t long before Gandalf’s pipe was lit and he was blowing multi-colored smoke rings. “So Gandalf, what brings you back to the Shire?”

“An old man can’t come visit his old friend for no reason?”

“We both know that he can’t if he’s you Gandalf.” Bilbo snorted, ready for what every snarky retort the wizard had for him. The retort that never came, after several more smoke rings Bilbo spoke again. “Should I be worried?”

“Worry does little good, dear boy.” Gandalf said tapping out the ash from his pipe and once again stowing it away in his robes. “Even when the news isn’t good.”

Before Bilbo could ask what the news was, the bright green door swung open. “Gandalf! I thought I heard your voice.” Bella called. In no short order she had them shuffled inside and at the kitchen table, Bilbo working on a pot of tea for them all and Bungo off to air out Gandalf’s room. (Gandalf had laughed at this, telling her he hadn’t yet said he was going to stay, only to be waved off with a gruff. “Of course you are, you daft old man. You always do, so you might as well stop pretending and save us all the time.”)

“So Gandalf, what brings you to the shire this time?” Bella said, once she was settled in a chair. “I hope it’s not another adventure. I never quite recovered from the last one.” She added with small wave to her leg. It had never quite healed properly leaving her with a bad limp, and often needing the aid of a cane to walk.

“Business, I’m afraid. For King Thror.” Gandalf said.

“The King? What does he want with the Shire?” Bilbo asked. The Shire may be settled on the King’s Land, but that never stopped them being two different worlds. Food was sent to the mountain and in return the hobbits had their homes and were kept safe. Outside the shared market there was little to no interactions between the races. Most Hobbits didn’t even know the names of the Royal Family, much less what they looked like.

“Not so much a what, but a who.” Gandalf said pulling a scroll from his robes and passing it to Bella.

With a small frown she took the scroll, breaking the seal and quickly reading through it. The color was slowly draining from her face as she read on, her shaking hands barely able to hold the paper steady.  “Gandalf.” She said with forced calm. “If this is your attempted at a joke it really isn’t funny.

“What does it say?” Bilbo asked.

Bella took a deep breath setting the scroll back on the table. “It’s summons. The dwarrow are preparing for war.” That came as little surprise to Bilbo. Even he knew of the rumors of the gathering evil to the east. Bella tried several times before she found the voice to continue. “They’re calling for a member of every dwarrow family to prepare for war.”

In an instant it all clicked together. Belladonna Baggins née Took, Dwarf-Friend, and in the eyes of the law, a dwarf. “No!” Bilbo snapped his chair clattering the ground as he jumped to his feet. “My mother has already served the King, He has no right!” Bilbo shouted. Ignoring his Father’s snap to calm himself. “She goes to this war and she will die! Why does she have to fight? Are there not enough dwarves in the mountain?”

“Unless Bella has a secret dwarf child she has hidden from us no one can fight in her place.” Gandalf said gently. “There is-

“Fine! Then I’ll go right up to the King himself and tell him just what I think about-“

“BILBO BAGGINS.”  The room fell silent at Bongo’s shout. If Tooks where known for their adventurous spirits, Baggins where known for their tempers. “You will do no such thing!”

“Give me one good reason.” Bilbo demanded his hands coming down on the table with a thud.

“Because you have brought enough shame on this family without running off to scold the king as if he was a faunt!” It was as if time stopped the moment Bungo snapped at his son. Bilbo’s back went ridged and his breaths were coming in harsh pants. The anger melted off Bugo’s face almost as soon as the cruel words left his lips. “Bilbo, I-“

 Bilbo didn’t stick around long enough to hear the apology. For the second time in as many days, he ran, only this time he didn’t bother to stop the flow of tears. Why did he keep doing this? He was half Baggins! He should be a proper Hobbit; not- not an embarrassment. How could he have thought for one moment that his family hadn’t carried about his display at Lobelia’s the other day?

He found himself curled up under the old oak on top of their hill. The branches providing some protection from the rain when it started to come down in buckets around him. Even the sky was wallowing with him.  He stayed there long after he had cried himself, not quite sure if the numbness he felt was emotional, physical or some twisted combination of the both.

His mother was going to die. There was no reason to pussyfoot about it. She left for war and she died. And his father would only be with him as a son. The mad Baggins, with far too much Took blood for his own good. There was no other dwarf in the Baggins family to take her place.  But…the dwarrows didn’t know that.

It was there under the oak tree soaked to the bone that Bilbo Baggins, flapped his wings and started a wind storm that even Gandalf would never have seen coming. If the King wanted a dwarf from the Baggins family Bilbo was going to give them one. He would go in his mother’s place.

It would destroy the tiny scrap of respectably he had left to his name, but his mother would be able to live. If he was lucky, he would too. He knew what would happen if he was caught. Dwarrows guarded their honor fiercely, to shame them by pretending to be one was something that was punishable by death. It would be the most dangerous thing he ever did, and the most stupid.

He left a small sprig of purple hyacinth from their garden on her bedside table in place of the summons on the kitchen table. He couldn’t do a proper note, he didn’t want to give himself the chance to think about what he was doing.

The coming dawn was hidden behind the storm clouds when he was finally ready. As long as no one looked too closely he looked like a rather short dwarf. A hat chosen to cover his ears, heavy boots (a gift to his mother) covering his feet, and a wig he had managed to turn into a fake beard covering his face.  This was it, he thought giving bad end one last look as he mounted their pony Myrtle, it was likely the last time he would ever see home again. He whispered a soft prayer to Yavanna, begging her to keep his mother safe, that this would be enough before finally turning his back on home.

*~*~*

Bella was not sleeping restfully. The knowledge of everything what she would have to leave behind tomorrow tormented her sleep. Battles, bloodshed and betrayal. Then, they took a sharp shift, it wasn’t herself facing down a towering pale orc, but her son. Her son running off to face an entire army with only a small cannon tucked under his arm, her son freezing alone in the snow. She jolted awake, Bilbo’s name tearing past her lips. The nightmares still clung tightly to the edges of her mind. “Bella?”

“Bad dream.” She wheezed trying to slow her heavy breathing. Just a bad dream. Nothing more. She reached blindly for the water on her side table, her fingers instead finding the soft petals of a flower. Bringing it to her face she squinted at it in the low light, a purple hyacinth? An odd flower to leave by her bed side, Bungo often would leave her sweet nothings in the language of flowers but a purple hyacinth where for apologies. Why would-

Her blood ran cold. No, Bilbo would never do something like that. He was a Baggins! Throwing back the covers she ran to his room the best she could on her bad leg to find it empty. _Please, Yavanna no, not my son._ She prayed as she hurried outside, _Please, let him still be outside in the garden._

She knew Bilbo wouldn’t be. She knew that she would find the stable they kept Myrtle in empty and she still ran out in the rain, hoping beyond hope she could at least catch him on the road, convince him to stay. They could find another way. Her legs wanted nothing to do with this, giving away shortly after she stumbled outside.

 “He’s gone in my place,” she sobbed when her husband and Gandalf found her.

“We have to go get him! Bring him back he could be killed!”

“If we out, him he will be.” Bella said softly. “Oh, Yavanna please, bring my son back to me.”

Had she looked, she would have noticed a creature shifting by the front gate,  a small smile gracing his face. _Bringing a son back to his mother, just the kind of thing Yavanna would reward one for_ , thought. _But think of how much more if he could turn one of Yavanna’s children into a Hero. Yes, this would do quite nicely._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again you can find me over at: [orions-nightingale](http://orions-nightingale.tumblr.com/) if you have any questions comments or concerns.  
> I keep all updates and sometimes quotes and previews fro this fic tagged [ Fic: The Flower That Blooms In Adversity. And I have it tracked if you ever want to talk about this thats where I'll find you uwu](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/fic:-the-flower-that-blooms-in-adversity)


	3. Smaug Enter Stage Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay no attention to the dragon behind the boulder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always beted by the wonderful, the lovely Jay.

# Chapter 3: Smaug Enter Stage Left

 

                “It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Smaug was once a great dragon. They called him terrible, a calamity, and all throughout Arda his name was known. People would speak of him with muttered curses and fear.

That was all a long time ago.

Now he was cursed for his sins, forced into a tiny earth bound body. His teeth were now nothing more than needles, his claws hardly sharper then a cats, and his wings? He didn’t even have them anymore. He was hardly more than a lowly snake forced to crawl around. So he made a plan. The Valar had cursed him, so they could un-curse him. All he needed was to find a way to win their favor. And if this was his shot  it was starting to look like he would be cursed forever.

The plan, in theory, was simple enough. Yavanna loved her children, and now one of her hobbits had the bright idea to join the army, which gave Smaug just the chance he needed to win her favor. If he was found impersonating a dwarf he would be killed long before an orc could find him. And judging by what Smaug was seeing at that moment, that would be happening as soon as he set foot into camp.

The outfit itself wasn’t the worst. A simple tunic that didn’t quite fit in properly, clearly made for someone with a different build. The beard was passable and the hat  what was, in Smaug’s opinion, the ugliest hat he had ever seen in his life covering his shorter hair and ears. No, it wasn’t his look that was the issue. It was him.

Bilbo Baggins was his name. And if you over looked the fact he had just run off on an adventure, he was your average hobbit. Which means he didn’t have a bloody clue how to pass as a dwarf.

“Hello there,” Bilbo said to his pony, starting up yet another sorry attempt at practice walking into camp. “Where do I sign in? Oh! I see you have an axe! I myself prefer the sword; it’s very-," Bilbo cut himself off in a strangled cry has his sword (if you could call it that) slipped from his hands as he tried to draw it.

Of all the hobbits in all of Arda, he would get this one. He sighed softly. _Well, there is no time like the present_.   _Time to introduce myself. Like it or not, this could be the last chance I get to fly again._

*~*~*

Bilbo sighed, picking himself up off the ground again. He had managed to fall over as he was trying to draw Sting. If he wasn’t mistaken, even his pony was laughing at him.

“Oh shut up,” He snapped at the whining pony. “I’m working on it!”

Myrtle snorted at this and Bilbo did his best to remind himself that she was just a pony and not actually mocking him. Not that that would stop the rest of the camp. He turned to look over the camp half a mile down the hill.

“Who am I kidding, “ He muttered. “It’s going to take a miracle to get me into the army.”

 **“Did I hear someone ask for a miracle?”** 

Bilbo jumped (and absolutely did not _squeal like a stuck pig’_ no matter what Smaug says) as the booming voice filled the small clearing. In his efforts to spin around and find the source he stumbled again, landing flat on his ass. Across the clearing from him he could see the shadow of a great beast on the cliff face. And where those flames coming up around the shadow?

Great, here he was all worried the army was going to kill him only to have a demon show up and do their job for them.

 **“Fear not, Bilbo for your salvation is at hand!”** The demon boomed. **“The Valar have sent me to assist you in this masquerade. For if the dwarves find out you are not one of them the penalty is death.”** At his last words the flames behind him reared up enough Bilbo could almost feel the heat on his face.

Despite claiming to help he sure looked like a daemon. “Who are you?” Bilbo managed to ask.

 **“Who am I? _Who am I_? My armor is like tenfold shields. My teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail is a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane! I **  **am none other than the powerful, the pleasurable, the indestructible-,"** As he spoke the shadow grew smaller and smaller until a small creature appeared on top of one of the small rocks. “Smaug.” He finished. (Myrtle reacted before Bilbo did by stomping on Smaug, until Bilbo managed to grip her reigns and pull her back. How much damage could the little thing do? He figured might as well give this Smaug a chance to help. Yavanna knew he needed it.

“So you’re telling me that Yavanna sent a lizard to help me?” Bilbo asked, picking Smaug up gingerly with two fingers. He weighed almost nothing despite being nearly as large as a house cat. He sure looked like a lizard, with a long thin body, and a halo of spikes around his head and down his back. Even if Bilbo had never seen a lizard with such a bright red coloring, or one with a row of sharp (albeit small) teeth.

Smaug sputtered and twisted himself out of Bilbo’s grasp.

“Dragon, _drag-on.”_ Smaug corrected. “A lizard... why don’t you just call me a slug. I don’t think I have ever been so insulted.”

“Because a dragon is just what I need walking into a camp of dwarrows.” Bilbo said dryly.  He only just managed to hold back a snort a Smaug following slack jaw expression. His reptilian features didn’t quite bend in the right ways to make it work. “You should close your mouth, you’ll catch flies like that.”

Smaug’s jaw clicked shut instantly a small puff of smoke rising from his nostrils.

 “Fine, go walk into camp alone.” He snapped, turning to storm off. “Shall I bring the news back to the Shire of your untimely death-“

“No wait!-," Bilbo called shifting to block Smaug’s exit. “I’m sorry. I haven’t really thought any of this through.” He admitted.

Smaug snorted, another puff of smoke curling up out of his nose with the sound.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Bilbo bit back his retort at that; he couldn’t chase away his first chance at help. “We are going to have our work cut out for us if we’re going to make this work out as you have already forgotten one tiny, but very so critical detail.”

“And that would be?”

Smaug’s mouth twisted into what Bilbo could only assume was a smile.

“Tell me, Master Hobbit, when did you plan on learning Kudzhul?”

*~*~

Smaug’s solution had been a small yellow fish they out found by digging in the mud by the river. Hobbits called it a Garrio, a tiny bait fish, but Smaug insisted that it’s true name was a babble fish and it would allow Bilbo to understand any language spoken to him. And, before Bilbo was able to explain to Smaug just how fake that sounded, Smaug had crawled up his arm and shoved the thing into his ear.

It didn’t hurt at least, but it was far from a pleasant feeling when the slimly creature crawled into his ear and settled… Bilbo really didn’t want to think about where the little fish had settled and how it was surviving in his head. 

Every step of the way he felt less sure about what Smaug was saying, but nothing could overcome the simple fact that he had no other option. Bilbo’s heart was in his throat - why on earth did he ever think this was a good idea? Running off to join the army and trusting a dragon. And for the first time, but far from the last time, he wished to be home in his armchair with his books. Far away from the army and a dragon that had somehow won a small portion of Bilbo’s trust.

“Okay,” Smaug whispered from his perch down the back of Bilbo’s shirt. “Time to strut your stuff. But we need to work on your stance. “

Bilbo nodded, not trusting his voice, and followed Smaug’s prompts to how to walk. _Chin up, shoulders back, knees together._ It was an awkward gait and he was sure every dwarrow in camp could see it as he matched right past them hoping to find the check in desk.

The camp was simple enough; rows of plain white tents, the smaller ones not unlike the one Bilbo had with Myrtle back at the camp entrance others much larger. Peeking into one, he found the infirmary, where he was chased out by a dwarf who, despite his ear trumpet,  seemed unable to hear his questions about where check in was.

Bilbo sighed, hoping that dwarrow were not as strict about tardiness as Hobbits. As he wove between them, the dwarrow where doing everything from sparring to personal grooming. What kind of person would do that just out in the open?

“They can’t do that in private?” Bilbo hissed back to Smaug looking at a dwarf who was picking dirt out from between his toes. “It - it's not respectable.”

“For a Hobbit.” Smaug reminded him. “You forget dwarves are a whole other race.”

“Dwarrow,” Bilbo corrected, so caught up in absorbing all the hustle and bustle of camp he nearly ran into a group of chatting dwarrow.

One had his tunic open showing off a tattoo that covered his entire chest. Bilbo shuddered at the thought. He had heard tales of how they did tattoos and it did not sound pleasant for a small one much less one of that size.

“This one will protect me from harm,” The dwarf claimed proudly.

“Pay attention,” Smaug said. “You’re going to have to act just like them.”

One of his friends, whom Bilbo noted even had his eyebrows braided into his wild pointed hair, leaned in to examine the tattoo closely before drawing his fist back and punching the other dwarf square in the chest. 

“I hope you can get your money back,” Eyebrows laughed.

 “I don’t think I can do this,” Bilbo whispered staring down at the poor dwarf who was now laying on the ground in shock form the impact.

“Of course you can!”

Did he really have to sound do cheery about all of this? Small claws dug into Bilbo’s hair turning his head back to Eyebrows.

“Now punch him,” Smaug instructed. “It’s how dwarves say hello.”

To Bilbo, such a practice sounded utterly barbaric, but he did just witness it in action, so just as Eyebrows was starting to turn away Bilbo gave him a firm punch on the arm.

The other dwarf, who was sporting both the ugliest hat Bilbo had ever seen (his own included), and one of the friendliest smiles he had yet to see laughed as Eyebrows stumbled into him.

 “Look at that Nori! You made a friend.”

 “Good now slap him on the behind - they like that,” Smaug prompted.

 The best time to stop would have been here; to have not slapped Nori’s ass, introduced himself, and not listen to anything else that came out of Smaug’s mouth.  Bilbo, however did none of those things and instead slapped Nori.  

Before Bilbo knew what happening, he was lifted clean off the ground, Nori’s hands gripping his collar.

“Oh, for that I’m going to hit you so hard, it’s-“

“Nori,” Hat-dwarf said firmly. “Cut him some slack, he’s just a kid.”

Nori snarled and dropped Bilbo, who only just managed to keep his feet under him. “Not like you’re even worth my time, chicken boy,” Nori muttered darkly.

Bilbo was already turning to make his quick exit when he heard a small shout from directly behind him.

“Chicken boy?! Say that to my face you fat ugly slug!”

Bilbo only just managed to turn around and duck from Nori’s punch in time, cursing Smaug’s name as he side stepped away from the angry dwarf. The punch meant for him landed on a rather large scar covered dwarf instead.

And that was the moment that all hell broke loose.

 Using his smaller size to his advantage, Bilbo ducked between and under dwarrows in an effort to get out of the thick of it all, only to find the fight kept growing.

“Stop panicking,” Smaug chastised him. Bilbo didn’t even bother to respond,  too busy trying to away from the fighting. Finally, he managed to get out by ducking under someone’s legs and breaking into a dead run.

  _Some first day at camp,_ he thought to himself. Sadly, while he didn’t look to where he was going, smacking right into a dwarf.

At any other time the following domino effect of falling dwarrow’s and one massive pot of rice and another of stew would have been strait up comical. Today, it only meant the flurry of fists was now joined by muddy, stew covered dwarrow.

 “Now we panic,” Smaug said.

 A stray fist caught Bilbo’s jaw and he went flying to the ground. He didn’t attempt to crawl away again this time, sure he wouldn’t make it far. Instead, he curled in on himself, covering his head and neck with his hands, hoping that if he could just stay small enough no one would notice him and he would be okay.

Finally a loud cry of “Silence” rang though out the camp. Instantly, every dwarrow froze. Staring at the speaker Bilbo couldn’t see. Then as a single unit every dwarrow said, “He started it.” And stepped back to point at Bilbo.

 Bilbo spared a moment to mourn the loss of his plan to lay low and keep under the radar as he pulled himself to his feet, trying his best to brush the dirt and mud from his clothing.  The speaker was quite possibly the tallest dwarf Bilbo had ever met. Bilbo’s head barely made it to his shoulder. His hair was quite simple compared to the other dwarrow with only two dark braids that Bilbo was sure stood for something framing his face. 

“I don’t need anyone starting trouble in my camp,” he snapped. Great his first day and he had already pissed of the general.

 “Sorry,” Bilbo flinched slightly at the pitch of his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again pitching his voice lower. “Sorry, you know how it gets sometimes you get those urges to just punch something.” He accented this with a small punch to the dwarf’s armor covered arm. “Fix things, mine, uh cook outdoors-“

 “Why are you speaking common?”

 “An old head wound, never was able to speak Khuzdul after it. " He lied smoothly. It was one of the few things he and Smaug had actually planned out. Unlike what he'd do if he started a brawl in camp. "I still understand it just fine,”

 “What’s your name?”

Oh.

Shit.

A name, yeah that would have been a good thing to have thought of beforehand. His jaw worked wordless for a moment.

“Well?” the general prompted.

“I have a name,” Bilbo said quickly, “And it’s a dwarf name too! It’s…”

“Nori?” Smaug suggested.

 “His name is Nori,” Bilbo whispered back.

 “I didn’t ask for his name,” The general all but growled. For a wild moment Bilbo thought of recommending him for some anger management classes. “I asked for yours."

 “It’s, uh-“

 “Ah-choo!”

“Ah-choo,” Bilbo parroted. The moment the word left his lips and Smaug started snickering he saw the error he had made.

“Gesundheit,” Smaug said between snickers.

Smaug!” Bilbo hissed back at him. This was no times for games!

“Smaug?” the general repeated.

 “No!”

“Then what is it?” The general's voice had risen to a shout now, an angry red flush settling on his face. He sure picked the right dwarf to piss off

“Blien,” Bilbo said quickly remembering one of the names his mother had mentioned when talking of her adventures.

“You do know Blien means-“Bilbo reached back under the guise of scratching his neck to clamp Smaug’s mouth shut. He was done listening to the dragon

“Son of Belladonna,” he added. Dwarrow didn’t have family names, apparently going by the parents’ names instead.

“Belladonna? The Belladonna Took? I didn’t know she had a son, much less a dwarf son.” The anger had left his face, replaced with confusion. Bilbo could feel his confidence in this lie working slipping away.

“It’s Baggins now; she is married," Bilbo corrected him. “She, um, doesn’t talk about me much. “

“I can see why,” Bilbo heard Nori’s stage whisper from the crowd behind him. “He’s an absolute lunatic.”

“Do you have your summons?” The general asked.

 Bilbo scrambled to unclip it from his belt handing it over. The general scanned it quickly, seeming to find it in order as he turned to step around Bilbo and address the camp as a whole.

“Well, thanks to your new friend Blien here, you will be spending the rest of the day cleaning every last grain of rice.” his deep voice carried easily through the entire camp even over the load groans (and angry growls) raising up from the gathered crowd. “Tomorrow we leave for the training grounds in the Grey Mountains. There, your real training will begin.”

With that he turned in a flurry of furs and armor storming back into his own camp. Leaving Bilbo facing a crowd of angry dwarrow.

“You know,” Smaug said.“We need to work on your people skills.”

 

 

               

               

**Author's Note:**

> Up Next: Thorin, meddling wizards and a dragon.  
> You can find me over on tumblr at [ MarikTweetums ](http://mariktweetums.tumblr.com/)


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